


Find You in a Cave

by barbex



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: CarverMerrill, F/M, lost in the cold, shelter in a cave, the best tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbex/pseuds/barbex
Summary: Carver accompanies Merrill in the mountains, to protect her. But a snowstorm surprises them and forces them to hide in a cave. Don't we all just love this trope?





	Find You in a Cave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollyand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyand/gifts).



> A Christmas gift for hollyand. Merry Christmas, dear.

 

* * *

"Come one Carver! Just a bit more," Merrill shouts over her shoulder as she happily dances up the winding slope of yet another hill.

Carver sighs and quickens his steps. His breath comes out in puffs, forming white clouds in front of his face that seem to whisk away like startled fairies when he walks right through them. The cold is biting on any exposed skin but Carver is still sweating under his armor.

Up ahead, Merrill's green cloak is swinging lightly with every step and her feet, for once actually covered by leather straps wound around them, find their footing as easily as ever. She carries two soft fabric bags with her and occasionally stops to pick up a leaf or a flower along the way. Carver is grateful for every stop, it gives him a chance to catch up with her and it offers him enticing views of her backside whenever she bends over.

Which he doesn't look for, of course. Not at all. He certainly doesn't linger on Merrill's shapely form when she bends over and her cape falls forward and — no he doesn't look for that at all.

"Maybe you shouldn't have put on all that heavy armor," Merrill says without any malice in her tone.

He sighs and carefully puts his weight on one of the rocks that Merrill used as a step. It may have held her easily but she isn't his size and isn't wearing full templar armor.

"I'm not going out here without armor. There's bandits and Tal'Vashoth here." And he has to protect her. She probably doesn't need his protection, powerful mage that she is, but he could never forgive himself if anything would happen to her. That's why he's here, following Merrill as she collects herbs and other things. He's here to protect her.

He concentrates on his boots finding hold on the slippery ground, watching for roots to avoid tripping over them and promptly runs into Merrill.

"Sorry!" he says, wrapping his arms around her to prevent her from falling over.

"Oh, sorry, I shouldn't have just stopped like that," she says, cheerfully and obviously unaware how Carver has stopped breathing and is struggling to stop his hands from wandering, now that he has her in his arms. "Look, the clouds." She points to the horizon, making no effort to free herself from his awkward embrace.

He looks to where she's pointing, mostly just to have somewhere to look because he can't look at her. If he keeps looking at her sparkling green eyes, so close to him now, he will do something terribly embarrassing. So he stares into the distance, over to the crest of another mountain he doesn't know the name of. It looks like clouds have been piled on top of each other, and each layer is darker than the other.

"That's bad," he says. He may not know the mountains here but he knows what storm clouds look like.

"Yes," Merrill says matter of factly, "those carry snow." She takes a step out of his embrace but her hand slides down his arm and she takes him by the hand.

He follows her in a daze, looking at her tiny hand in his big one, almost completely hidden by his gloves and gauntlets. She pulls him after her, her steps quick and sure, along a path that cuts into the rocks of the mountain they've been climbing and turns into a narrow ravine.

"Where are we going?" Carver asks when the ravine gets so narrow, that his shoulder guards begin to scrape at the stones at his sides.

"There is a cave over there," Merrill says. She hasn't let go of his hand.

"Shouldn't we try to get back to Kirkwall?"

She stops and shakes her head. "Not enough time, look." She points over his shoulder and when he turns around, the small strip of sky he can see has turned into an angry sea of dark clouds, rolling towards them.

Merrill pulls him along again, then she lets go of his hand and starts to run. The ravine takes a turn and opens up into a small plateau. There is an overhang on one side with a deep darkness in the back and Merrill goes directly towards it.

"Merrill!" he calls after her and hurries to catch up. The wind has picked up and it's icy cold and the cold creeps under his armor like ghostly hands. It licks over his sweaty skin, leaving trails of ice all over his body. He runs, as fast as he can, towards that darkness under the overhang that his eyes can't penetrate until it swallows him and he trips and falls to his knees and something holds him.

"Carver, stop," Merrill says, her voice right at his ear and he sighs in relief. "We shouldn't go further down there."

"Alright, yes," he mumbles. He can't stop shivering, the cold still has its fingers on him under his armor. But Merrill holds him, her flowery scent enveloping him and warmth is spreading in his chest.

"You're cold," she says.

The warmth in his chest can't stop his teeth from clattering. "I was-s-s s-sweating and now...."

"Take your armor off," she commands and turns away. He can see her silhouette against the grey sky outside of the cave as he undoes buckles with shaky hands. It has started snowing outside and lucky for them the wind blows the snowflakes past the overhang and not inside. Merrill gathers a few things at one side. With a flick of her hand she ignites the pile with a fireball and comes back to him.

She holds out his hand. "Come, we have to get you warm again."

Most of his armor falls from his body when she pulls him up. She is surprisingly strong for someone so delicate. She leads him to the fire and makes him lean against a rock where she draped her two bags over it.

"But your herbs will all get crushed," he protests.

She laughs quietly and gently presses him against the rock. "Most of them have to get crushed anyway, it doesn't matter." She looks at him and shakes her head. "You have to take off that shirt too, it's too wet. And those pants — "

"I'm not taking off-f-f my pants," he protests again, shivering.

"You humans are so strange about your bodies." She shakes her head and points to his greaves. "At least take all that metal off and the thick leather." She sits back and waits. When he doesn't move, she giggles a little and turns to the fire to stoke it.

He hurries to take off everything except for his smalls as long as her back is turned. He watches her from the corner of his eyes. She has taken off her cape and now shrugs out of her leather coat. The soft fabric of her dress falls softly down to her knees and over her pants.

"Lean back now," she says. "Spread your legs apart."

"I... what?"

"Carver."

Just the way she says his name, makes everything in his head grind to a standstill. He dutifully spreads his legs apart and she drapes her leather coat over his shoulders and then sits down between his legs. Leaning against him, she pulls her cape over both of them.

Heat is rising up in Carver and it's not just because of Merrill's body heat or the fire and her cape. She is so very close and she seems to be so comfortable. While Carver doesn't dare to move a muscle, Merrill presses herself against him, resting her cheek against his naked chest as if she does this every day.

"Carver?" she quietly says and he can feel her jaw working against the skin of his chest.

"Yes?" he says. His arms are hurting from holding them so rigid at his side, making sure not to touch her.

"Don't you like me?"

"No!" he calls out. "I mean, yes I like you, I do."

"Good, I thought so because you always come to my house and you drink tea with me and you haven't send the templars over to get me..."

"I would never!"

She looks up to him now, her green eyes deep enough to fall into. "I'm glad. Because I like you too. You are very strange sometimes but you are good. I like how you laugh, how you always compliment my tea even though I can see that you don't like it."

"Am I that obvious?" He tries very hard not to think about how she rubs against the growing bulge in his smalls with every movement.

"Sometimes," she says, sitting up and turning to him. "But sometimes you're very strange, like now." She looks at his arms, held straight at his sides, covered in goosebumps and shivering with every breath. "Why don't you hold me?"

Carver squirms under her gaze. "I thought it would be inappropriate."

She giggles again and shakes her head. "It's not."

He carefully wraps his arms around her lithe body and experimentally pulls her closer to him. "Am I doing this right?"

"Yes. Just a bit more."

He obliges and she moves closer to him, and suddenly her face is so very close to his. Her lips settle softly on his and she kisses him. She nibbles a little and sucks on his lower lip before she pulls away. "Did I do this right?" she asks with a sparkle in her eyes. "Sometimes I'm not sure how..."

Carver has lost all words. He can only nod and pull her towards him. She kisses him again and he forgets to breathe. He tries to concentrate on how to move his lips and where to put his hands but then it all melts away because her lips open, her tongue touches his and Carver is gone from this world.

He needs to touch everything of her. There is fabric under his hands, a barrier that has to go. He finds the rim of her dress and slides his hands over her skin.

"Ah! Your hands are still cold," she cries out, squirming under his touch. She giggles and wiggles and it does wonderful things to his growing erection under her bottom.

He settles his hands on her stomach and after a while she calms down. She leans back with her back against him, her head settling on his shoulder. Slowly, he begins to move his hands, drawing soft circles over her hips and her stomach. He slips the tips of his fingers under the rim of her pants and her breath hitches against his neck.

Embolden by her reaction, he ventures further down. To his surprise he finds no hair on her pubis and his hand slides unhindered down to her labia lips. He traces her folds, listening to her breath coming in small gasps and when he caresses the hooded nub on top of her folds, he knows he found the right place. She moans, her back arches off him and he has to wrap his free arm around her waist to keep her close to him.

"Carver, ma vhenan," she sighs on a desperate breath.

"Am I doing this right?" he murmurs into her ear and he can feel her smile in answer.

"Yes, oh creators, yes."

His wandering fingers find warm moisture in her folds and he spreads it over her nub. Her reaction is immediate and intense, a cry and a shiver that goes through her whole body.

"Don't stop, please, Carver, that feels so good, I..." Words tumble from her mouth that he has never heard before, elvish probably.

He keeps caressing her nub, circling, stroking it and her breath comes quicker, her gasps making him quiver and she can't stop moving, rubbing him through his smalls.

And then her body tenses and she cries out, her voice full of joy and a shiver shakes her in bliss. He can just hold on to her, watching her. He will never forget how she looks right now, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a sigh of pleasure, a soft sheen of sweat on her forehead.

The tension leaves her body on a last soft whimper and she falls back down on him, practically boneless in his arms. Her eyes open, green and as deep as the sea and his heart jumps like bird.

"Ma vhenan," she whispers and turns in his arms until she straddles him. He groans from the friction, he feels close to bursting.

Her hand crawls under his smalls and his whole body tenses when she just takes his hard erection in her hand.

"Merrill!" he calls out.

"Shh, let me," she says and leans forward to kiss him. As she captures his lips, her hand moves slowly up and down. But she is almost too careful.

He whines, desperation making his skin feel too tight. "More, harder, oh Merrill, please."

That seems to be all the encouragement she needs because now she's grabbing his shaft tight and moves her hand faster.

"Maker," he gasps, his back arching against the cold stones.

She watches him, smiling and he wants to treasure this forever, but too fast, way too fast, his climax approaches, ripping him away from looking into her eyes as he arches his back and the wave of pleasure sweeps him away. He spills all over her hand but she doesn't flinch, just softly strokes him a few more times.

"Merrill," he whispers, unable to form more words.

She smiles at him. "Your face just now, you looked so happy."

"I am happy," he says. His chest wants to explode from all that happiness.

She leans forward and snuggles against him. "Me too." Her hair tickles his chest when she looks towards the mouth of the cave. "Look, it stopped snowing."

Carver follows her line of sight. Outside, the glow of the afternoon sun shines over soft whiteness, covering every part of the landscape.

Merrill sighs, "I wish it hadn't stopped."

"Why?"

She turns back to him and smiles."Because I want to stay here with you."

Carver pulls her tight to himself. "We can stay a bit longer."

Merrill flips a tiny fireball from the tip of her finger onto the pile of debris and pulls her coat tighter around them. "Just for a bit."

By the time they make it back to Kirkwall that evening, most of the snow has melted. It's dinnertime at the Hawke estate and nobody says anything about Carver and Merrill coming to the table together, holding hands.

At least for a bit. No Hawke can ever leave their mouth shut for long.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find all the lovely Merrill x Carver content at [carvermerrill.tumblr.com](https://carvermerrill.tumblr.com). Rarepair lovers unite!


End file.
